


You've Got Time

by ReceiverofWisdom



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, Silent Hill
Genre: F/F, I'm that kind of person, Silent Hill crossover, almost literally, can't stop this train now, mikannie - Freeform, mmm yep, silent hill is horror based, there will be horror themes in this story, there's likely to be some smut later on so, they're in for a horrible time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 02:42:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2293982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReceiverofWisdom/pseuds/ReceiverofWisdom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Such heavy burdens upon the shoulder are unwarranted, and both of them find appeasement in their half-state of bliss within every day life of being university students.<br/>The simple motive of heading to a friend's house leads the two into a frenzied hell of a town, forcing them to comply with one another for survival in facing their inner demons.<br/>Silent Hill AU. Halfly modern-day as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Downpour

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry the intro is a bit short. Again, I seek opinions on the idea.  
> Also, totally bring those prompts my way. I'm happy to get some things started even if they're weird crossovers but hey, plenty of angst to come.  
> Next chapter should be a lot longer and more in depth for their situation. I like to draw things out.

Cold rain that drizzled relentlessly. That was what had stirred her – the flickering drops that dribbled through the wooden cracks of the construct she was slumped beneath.  
  
She opened her eyes, slowly but surely. A contrasting black against the soft grey of her eyes dilated for a moment, and things seemed blurred, sparing the female the brief and nearly alarming visage of pedestrians scurrying for cover in the darkening atmosphere of that town. She could hardly even recognize what was in front of her in the bleary aftermath of her hopefully short-lived rest.  
  
When had she fallen asleep?  
  
Along the raindrop-flowing streets, a patch of fur skimmed rather lazily along the ground, headless and ragged.  
  
No, not headless. As it turned in her direction, Mikasa was only relieved at the realization that the creature simply had its nose pressed towards the ground, peering through the hair in its face at the drenched grounds for something. She stared motionlessly, captivated as the mop of a dog wiggled around without so much as a puff at the weather.  
  
She felt stiff, and very tired. The invading prickles of moisture that contacted her face were not aiding her condition. Parts of her hair clung to her face, and she could place serious debate into whether or not she had a nose, for she certainly had no sense of feeling for it.  
  
When she became better aware of her surroundings, she shifted slightly, and turned her head, only to find a newer fur-like texture tickling her face; a familiar scent to push forth its invasive presence. With a smile quirking her lips at the familiarity, Mikasa found herself nuzzling into it slightly with the dreary tiredness lingering. A headache was making itself known in the back of her attentions.  
  
She conjured warmth from the source of the material, soft and homely. Her defenses against the weather she so enjoyed had been fortified, and soon disturbed as a hand made itself known, shifting around near her hip. Alarmed by this, Mikasa urged herself to sit up more, bringing her own hand up to press a palm to one of her eyes, looking over at the person objectified as her comfort. So suddenly, things came flowing back to her.  
  
They were waiting for the bus.  
  
“Oh.” A dim tone of slightened disappointment from the person. Annie had discreetly retracted her hand back to her own side, blinking as if she had been on the brink of sleep as well. There was no finishing statement defending the slackness of the physical barrier that was a generality between them. The bench was compact. The fact they were touching one another was logic. But an arm around her?  
  
“It’s cold,” the blonde finally said, moving her hands up to her mouth to cup and breathe into them. Her breath pooled out past them in a dispersing mist.  
  
It made better sense. It must have been uncomfortable for Mikasa to be leaning against the other, crushing her arm into her side. All other assumptions slipped away from her thoughts like the drops that leaked down upon them.  
  
“How long have I been asleep?”  
  
Annie moved a bit, digging around in the pockets of her fur-trimmed jacket for her phone, just to peek at the time.  
  
A pause. “Half an hour. We could have caught the subway and been there by now.”  
  
Mikasa sighed inwardly, and sat further upright, finally allowing the other her space. Sourly, the other female responded by shifting much more abruptly, as if making a point to her discomfort. It was ignored. “The buses must be out.” _A subway would be cheaper than a cab at the distance they needed to go_ , she reasoned. With no mention of a cab from Annie, she must have come to a similar conclusion.  
  
They sat in silence for a few moments, finally taking the opportunity to relish the serene downpour, before Mikasa proposed that they walk across the street to the stairs descending into the trams for the subway. Without any formal indication as to whether or not she agreed, Annie had pulled her hood up, and began stalking across the barren road with the dark-haired female shortly pursuing.  
  
In the brief depths of the stairs, they were underground, and Annie was pecking on her cell phone for digital copies of short-term purchased tickets that were not likely to have expired yet in her recent trip – a product of wanderlust-driven impulse for university students on break.  
  
Mikasa observed the glowing schedule propped up in the midst of the platform, such of which catered to the idea of dropping them at their destination soon. The next one to arrive was, fortunately, not too far off.  
  
Against her own intent of making it to their destination with fashionable tardiness, there was a sudden chill that rippled its way down her back. She stood, rigid and paralyzed with the sensation that pricked down along her skin; unwarranted. Her breath constricted as she turned to the side, brows rising and lips hung slightly mute.  
  
There was _no one_ else around them.


	2. Objectives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did this quicker than I thought I would.  
> Thank you for the amazing feedback so far. Definitely an incentive.

Whipping her head in Annie’s direction with her alarm, it seemed she was not unique in this realization, for those cool blue opticals were more intent on searching the environment than the soft glow of her phone. She did not, however, present as much distinguished trepidation over the odd revelation, rather, her brows were pressed into affliction.  
  
It was not _closed_. The trams were still shown to be running, and aside from the dingy decay and unkemptness of the station, things seemed active.  
  
The creeping distress reigned in the back of her mind as she shoved her unease under a boot, taking the moment to truly evaluate the lack of people in a rather populated and industrious town. She listened for footsteps, she listened for voices, she listened even for the revving of cars beyond the stairs they had trudged down.  
  
Annie had gone back to peering at her phone. In her personal effort to capture the reins on her suspicions, Mikasa slid her own cell from the pocket of her jacket, and immediately began dialing away at – oh, Eren had mentioned that morning that the bill for his service had yet to be paid. Her thumb discoursed into tabbing in Armin’s number instead.   
  
In the very least, she could inform them of why the two were so _fashionably_ late. Why she had not gotten a call from them already was beyond her – perhaps she did not credit her peers with enough patience. A drawling tone sounded instead of the usual ringing she might receive. With furrowed brows, she pulled it away from her ear, and checked her signal bar, which ever so affectionately responded with **No Service**.  
  
“Annie.”  
  
The blonde was over near a corner by a vacant ticket booth. The lights were still on inside. Even so, it was far too dark where they were for her taste. Both arms were propped up on the ledge from the window, and she was scowling so heavily towards the interior, Mikasa felt as if the structure might burst into flames under the pressure.  
  
“ _Annie_.”  
  
Finally, said female looked away from the window, and towards her. Apprehensive and within the sharp confines of disdain, it caused the ravenette’s heart to thrum. A lack of verbal recognition told her to simply go ahead with what she had to say.  
  
“I have no service. You should text Armin, or, someone.”  
  
“I don’t have service either.”  
  
 _Ah_. Immediately, her eyes caught on to a pay phone attached to a wall near a dying, flickering vending machine. Annie had returned to stalking and prowling along the front of all of the booths, eyes intent on seeking _anyone_ out while Mikasa took a brisk jog over to a machine, digging into her damp jeans for change.  
  
Those phones were out too. With a soft hiss, she cluttered the phone back into its hold with a more solemn movement. Perhaps someone had just hit something down a few blocks to disconnect lines.   
  
Her footsteps were lighter as she made her way back towards the schedule, suddenly much more mindful of the heavy tap they made as she stepped. As soon as they made it to the next station, she would make their friends aware that they were on their way. It was pointless to fret about a lack of contact at that point. After a glance at the schedule, Mikasa meandered out to the edge of the platform to lean out slightly, peering into the tunnel that roared out at her scoping invasion of its depths.   
  
A tram horn, echoing off of the walls, caused her to step back from the track and look towards the alerted blonde, having finally given up on prowling those innocent, fearful-under-her-stare booths.  
  
“I bet the bus passed by now.” The lion-hearted being had murmured, joining up beside Mikasa with pessimism lacing throughout her tone. The comment came and went without any remark to be returned to it.  
  
When the train did finally come, the two could only gawk at the spectacle of its lights being dead up until the point that it stopped. In that complete stop, then, and only then, did the lights flicker on to reveal an empty and barren interior, devoid of life. The doors opened, and it remained still, as if waiting to ensnare the two that looked openly and fixedly upon the transportation.  
  
“Here we are.” Annie murmured, as if introducing such a spectacle.   
  
_There they were. Getting onto a spooky train in a dark subway_ , Mikasa mused in thought. The entirety of it was so bizarre, she could hardly hold the slight uneasy smile that tugged at the corners of her lips.   
  
“It must be the storm. Even in a town like this, I guess people are opting for other ways of getting around… This must be why.”  
  
Or so she had convinced herself. But someone should have come along by now.  
  
It was nothing either of them wanted to concern further with. Annie took initiative to poke her head through the door, and glance about, before wading inside and picking a seat. All of them were open, after all. A small town, and a subway ran right through it. Perhaps it was a normality for the area. There was no reason to get so worked up, right? Their brief trip there had been nothing short of interesting.  
  
Still, Mikasa did not like it. Rather than cramming herself against the other woman again, she respectfully selected a seat across and slightly diagonal from her. Annie kept her eyes trained on the window. The lights remained on, and with a soft jolt, the thing began moving. _Someone_ was dictating it a few rail cars ahead of them.  
  
“This is textbook horror.” Mikasa crossed a knee over the other, arms folded.  
  
“My whole life is textbook horror.”  
  
It was a bit crude to smile about that, even a little, as aware of the blonde’s life as she was. Being discreet about it, the partial oriental tugged at the edge of her scarf and dragged it over her mouth, eyes closing as she tilted her head back. It would be a bit of a journey before the next station. They had time to cool their jittered minds.


	3. Observation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is slowly rolling.  
> I feel like I should drag things out more, but I don't want to do that too much.

Eventually, Mikasa became restless.  
  
Abandoning her backpack, she went to the windowed door that was connected to the block behind theirs and peered through it with an intent of seeking other passengers. Still, nothing greeted her curiosities.  
  
While the train slowed and jerked now and then, she had not yet abandoned the hopes that they would soon be at the end of the line. When the tram finally stopped, and the doors opened, no one else boarded then either. One stop down, two to go.  
  
Annie adopted the role of partial cell-phone junkie, partial restless occupant. She seemed to be reading over things, all the while continually switching which leg was over which, and how her bangs fell to the line of her face.  
  
The woman that stood attentive by the door of their block grew more and more aware of the unease, and was urged to waltz her way over and smooth the blonde’s hair to the side, simply so she would stop messing with it.  
  
Her own habits even bothered her. Each time she caught herself chewing at the edge of her lip, she reprimanded herself. Anxiety betrayed her will to push down habit. _Something_ was very wrong about their situation. She could not place a finger on just _what_ was wrong, and therefore discovered her paranoia to be ridiculous.  
  
The silence between the two that was usually a respectable comfort became awkward. Annie ran out of things to do with her hands, ran out of whatever her eyes had been scanning. She sat there bored and without affliction, turning and prodding at the bland silver ring on one of her fingers. Her own passive observation of the walls and the general interior of that subway became obsessive detail seeking.  
  
Third stop, fourth stop.  
  
Mikasa exhaled a pent breath as the train slowed for the last time that they would experience. Things would be fine. Annie would take care of the tickets, _as if there was anyone there to be mindful of them_ , and they could make their way the short distance of a few blocks before their destination would be in their grasp.   
  
There was nothing to get so worked up over.  
  
Certainly not the lack of occupants in the area. There were many more blocks to the tram. Many more methods of transportation.   
  
Another reprimand for her misbehaving thought process.  
  
She checked the time on her phone. A dull irritation hit her as her bar continued with the already old greeting of _No Service_. It was a little later than two in the afternoon, and yet the darkened skies beyond still apparent at the glow of the ascending stairs made it seem much later.   
  
A few stalling moments in the frame of the doors, and they made their way out to the soaked platform. The stairs oozed down rain water and mud from outside. All they would need to do would be to make a lasting effort of ascending those stairs, and they would be free. Sasha’s house was just a few blocks beyond near open forest terrain.   
  
Confident in this, Mikasa began to progress in the seemingly final lengths of their journey, only to be held back by a firm tug on the material around her neck. When Annie had managed to get a grip on the red fabric was beyond her, and she opened her mouth with confrontation on mind, until the blonde effectively hushed her, and gestured to the green sign above the mouth of their exit.  
  
Sketchy letters read "Welcome to Silent Hill”.  
  
The meaning was imprinted.  
  
As the two approached the sign, unbelieving of such words, they experienced something immense as their feet threatened to push past the defined barrier such a sign seemed to establish. A mortifying chill that spread down the spine, locking them as they were. Annie shuddered for reasons no words could describe, confident that such vocabulary did not thrive in the world.  
  
“We’re at the end of the line.” The black-haired woman breathed, head tilted towards the sign. “This is our stop.” She continued with a voice of urgency, blinking to wear away the traitorous words.  
  
“Right.” Annie agreed, simply and without commitment however just as much taken by the strangeness as the other. They counted properly, if she recalled right.  
  
Yet just as the other declared, it was the end of the line. There was no further that they could go, as it had always been when crossing the expanse of the terrain just to get from their location to the home of the friend, as very few times as they had utilized the subway. It had been entirely fine the first time they had done it, and the return trip.  
  
Mikasa’s expression had drawn blank, aside from the tightening of lips as Annie proceeded to propose that they get above ground and assess their location. In spite of rain, it would be best to proceed to another route. They had wasted enough time, and Mikasa was inclined to agree. The strange terror of those words did not leave them as they tramped up the stairs, heavily aware of the continual lack of other human presence.  
  
Dark streets and dingy buildings littered on either side of them as they escaped the confines of the metro area, no longer interested in any connection of the route.  
  
They stood there, and stood there, evaluating the unfamiliar town.  
  
The fear and uncertainty that had been harbored before receded and withered by the open area as they earned a new concentration that was suddenly more realistic. A metro seemed trapping, but as they inhaled the free air, confidence and mannerisms returned to them.  
  
Annie bore her eyes into the concrete, tugging her hood up as she passed through the overhang the subway presented. What had once been a soothing wave turned into a torrential downpour, and the blonde was soaked within moments of stepping out into the open.  
  
The longer Mikasa stood by the entrance, the more light-headed and infirm she felt – and so she followed the other into the darkness.  
  
No cars could be heard in the distance. Nor distilled city noises, nor footsteps aside from their own.  
  
It was surreal.  
  
As Annie raised a burdened head to the sad buildings above, Mikasa meandered her way towards a bus stop map. “I didn’t know this town was anywhere close to our area.”  
  
“Neither did I.”  
  
“The buses aren’t running here for a time, this says.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“We can catch the next metro running from the other line and try to go back a stop.”  
  
No notion of comprehension from the blonde, and yet Mikasa knew well that she had been heard. They backtracked the short distance from the entrance to the station that they had traveled, only to be met with a cold and vacant wall where the decent to the stairs once was.  
  
“It was right here.”  
  
“I’ll check further down.”  
  
“No.” The swordswoman reached out, grasping the fluff-rimmed coat of the shorter female to stop her. “It was _right here_.”  
  
Annie looked, truly _looked_ at the blank wall with all the doubtfulness of furrowed brows. She finally hiked one up her forehead, and turned her gaze back towards the other.  
  
 _Really_? She could almost hear. Mikasa began questioning whether or not she was capable of thinking straight. Everything looked proper, aside from the concrete brick blockage to the entrance. In small red lettering that drizzled, still wet, Mikasa could see **Stay True!** contrasting the much lighter surface.  
  
“What the fuck?”  
  
Mikasa had snapped her head back in Annie’s direction, surprised by the sudden profanity, while said individual did not linger on the scene, but rather pursued the bus stop details once again.  
  
She was even ready to option for a taxi at that point, but it went unspoken.   
  
The ravenette passed a look to the skies from beneath her hood, adjusting the straps of her soaked backpack. “Let’s just find somewhere to go into for now. We’re just moping around out here, and I want to find service. Maybe even just wifi and let them know what’s going on.”  
  
“I think we should – is that a deer?”  
  
It was unlike her to drop from a topic of importance so quickly. Mikasa shot her an odd look, before following the direction that she stared in.  
  
Indeed, a shadowy stag loomed down the street from them, head held high in the midst of the bare street. Vacant milky eyes were a dismay to sentience.  They glimmered like distant car lights, though there was no moon to be held responsible for such a reflection.   
  
While both women upheld that stare for a few moments, they brushed the vigilant being aside from their topic for a moment.  
  
Too many things occurred at once within a short period of time.  
  
With a dim buzzing roar in the back of their minds, they pulled tight to their belongings, and shoved themselves into the nearest building that was not locked.  
  
As they peered out from the windows of a small diner, the ominous being stood guard the same approximate distance away even though the two maneuvered themselves away a good couple of blocks. It moved and stalked with uncomfortable stealth.


	4. Close Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a bit longer. Trying to balance a lot of things.
> 
> Critique is appreciated. If you want to know anything about Silent Hill, feel free to prompt me with a question.

Mikasa became sharply aware of the crunching of glass beneath her feet.  
  
Taking a moment to source the pieces that were crushed beneath her boot, she had come to discover that the considerably thin layer of glass that stood to separate the two from the massive stag beyond was shattered a little ways above their heads, as if someone had thrown a rock through it at some point.  
  
The diner was stale, crusted with debris and dust that had long since gone undisturbed.  
  
Annie scrunched her face as she made the mistake of setting her hand on a table she bumped into when she backed away from the inconceivable being, her hand caked in layers of settled particles that blackened devoutly pale skin.  
  
The rain outside had become soundless, unable to penetrate the deafening will of the small shop that surely once housed a bustling community. Aside from their own breathing, shaken, the pronged fiend beyond maintained a formidable presence that weighed so heavily upon their shoulders that their hearts pounded thickly.  
  
At each female’s discursion, it had become a neglected topic.  
  
“It has to be a ghost town.” Annie started, wiping the muck of the interior off on the side of her jeans, better favouring the condition of her white jacket.  
  
“We’ve been back this way a lot of times, though.”  
  
Annie neither replied nor managed to tear her gaze from the invasive seeking headlights beyond.  
  
“I saw an alley towards a parking lot when we ran around the corner,” Mikasa continued, stepping back away from the window, reaching to tug the sleeve of the lion-hearted woman in the process. “I bet there’s a door that leads out the back of here.”  
  
“For employees.” The blonde’s voice seemed slightly coarse as the weight of the situation slowly pressed down the energetic atmosphere.  
  
“Right.”  
  
Pushing their way past flexed doors, they moved through a small utility room to the door at the far end of a short but wide hall. Boxes, laden with cups, conduction wires, and syrups, were stacked messily on either side and were just as rotten as the floor about them.  
  
The door was padlocked.  
  
Annie grabbed for the nearest large utility-like object, and slammed it down into the lock until, laced with withered rust, it snapped away in forfeit to the hinges it promised to guard in order to leave them an escape. The helpless feeling of being cornered in the café by something that dwarfed them melted away, though the blonde pretended to miss the hard look thrown her way by the dark-haired female at the brute tactic of their escape.  
  
The look, too, melted away upon the grounds of the abandonment of the town. No one would be paying for that reckless damage.  
  
The weary air pervaded their senses as they stepped back out into the chill and rain. As foretold, an uninhabited parking lot greeted them. Nervous flickers of eyes sought out the dual beams that had once penetrating their vision so fiercely, and thankfully, no such sight met them.  
  
Had they been none the wiser, the darkness of the sky could have been mistaken for a time past nine, rather than a later afternoon.  
  
The soon-familiar tingle of dread was sharp through the thick material of their clothes as they ducked under a torn chain-link fence into the open of the parking lot.  
  
The wrought sensation of eyes trained on her back caused Ackerman to fitfully seek comfort in the based company of her companion, and she chewed on words of speculation and conversation, understanding that it was more important to _listen_ to their surroundings. Perhaps talking previously led them to miss the pitter of hooves against pavement. Such a large creature surely could not be as soundless as it seemed.  
  
Thick steps of their boots in puddles and wet side walk, instead, occupied them above the silence.  
  
The atmosphere held that earthy autumn smell that both of them held high appreciation for. Had the current situation not been at hand, it would have been an absolutely pleasant walk.  
  
Past the shapes of rectangular dumpsters, scattered with rubbish about them, the pair could make out the darker outline of a car, and decided to approach it. It had been the first one they had seen in several blocks since the disappearance of the substation, which still held them both at odds about what to do.  
  
How could you explain that?  
  
It came as mutual, silent agreement not to bring the subject up as well.  
  
When they approached the forlorn vehicle, Annie pressed her hands around the edges of her eyes to try and peer into the interior after clearing away some of the muck, and again mistreating her jeans with the aftermath left on her hand. She clicked her tongue when realizing that the muck decorated the other side of the window, as well.  
  
“The keys are sitting right there on the seat.”  
  
Mikasa reached past her, trying for the handle. The door easily popped open.  
  
The dash was dusty, and the seats were torn. The keys, however, did not look as stale as the rest of the vehicle. They shined and glimmered, provocatively promising and easy escape if the vehicle were still in running condition.   
  
Annie, who was ducked towards the interior of the car, manually rolled down the window for the other to catch a better sight of what was inside.  
  
Mikasa pulled her head away from the window before the voice had ever reached the blonde’s ears. Mikasa, in vain, attempted to reach over and alert the blonde by pulling at the hem of her jacket.  
  
“Got a light?” A foreign tone invaded, and Annie jerked away from her slouched position so abruptly, that she smacked the back of her head on the edge of the car door frame and whirled around with a dangerous scowl, partially confronting, partially smarting from the pain.  
  
The person seemed none too affected, and made a gesture with their thumb, as if striking something. “Light. Lighter. Got one?”  
  
They were drenched, and blinked pitifully through the rain that drizzled down their face and into the fabric that was strewn up around their mouth and nose. Though the individual wore a jacket, they seemed ignorant to the hood attached to it, not bothering to pull it on to block the weather.  
  
The two women played themselves off as best they could without looking incriminating in their breaking of the ghostly car.  
  
“No.” Mikasa had spoken, and was quick to add “sorry” dismissively.  
  
A heavily silence continued, with Annie nursing the back of her head before prompting the other. “Do you know how to get ar–.”  
  
“That isn’t your car.”  
  
Both women’s expressions dropped, as their blood ran colder than the rain that pelted them, and Annie began to step away from the car, numb fingers still clutching the keys.  
  
“Is it yours?”  
  
“No.”  
  
The stranger stood limply, but took an impatient inhale.  
  
“Don’t think they’re around anymore.”  
  
Just as easily, the two stood less rigid, but entirely cautious, and shared glances out of peripheral visions.  
  
As the stranger, not entirely identifiable as neither male nor female in spite of the tone of their voice, inched closer, Mikasa could not help but notice the oddness of their gait. They walked stiffly, as if they lacked the ability to bend their knees too far.  
  
Now that she gave true attention to the individual’s knees, they seemed _backwards_.  
  
The person was lurched slightly forward, rasping through the cloth over their mouth in the moments they _had_ spoken. The two had firstly mistaken for the stranger to have been wearing heeled boots, but upon more direct and focused attention, came to realize that the hooded person favoured standing more on their toes, like raised hackles.  
  
Uneasiness spread through them, and the one that opposed them seemed to notice as he looked between them, shifting his feet, making those backward knees at the more apparent. Almost like the legs of an upright dog in a way.  
  
“Those aren’t boots.” Annie murmured beside her, keeping her tone as low as possible. She hoped the thrum and pitter of rain about them, as well as noisily against the top of the car, helped to conceal the revelation.  
  
As Mikasa shot spare glances down, her eyes drew the line of what she had come to make out as coal-blackened claws. It took all of her concentration not to stare.  
  
“Do you have a light?” It repeated, stepping a few paces closer to them, closing them in to the corner with the dumpsters and the dead vehicle.  
  
They watched as it staggered with more desperation, breathing becoming heavier in thick mist as it poured heatedly beyond the extent of the concealing fabric. Brows furrowed, and the beady black eyes that became apparent as it drew closer gave light to a broiling rage.  
  
Mikasa edged herself around the front of the car wordlessly, putting distance between herself at the stranger, as Annie crammed the numerous keys into one of her back pockets and attempted to do the same around the back of the car.  
  
When it attacked, it was very sudden, and very uncoordinated.  
  
It lurched with a shriek, and messily slammed itself into the shorter female, disorienting her with rotten, foul breath while it scraped uselessly at the windows of the car until it blindly realized it had to narrow its focus to the smaller body that writhed beneath its weight.   
  
Annie stomped on the avian talons as hard as she could manage, shoving a fist repeatedly into the creature’s ribs in a shaken attempt at injuring it and getting it to back off.   
  
The shrieks became the familiar screams of disgruntled crows, and it reared its head around, only having gotten away with sinking blackened talons upon formless fingers into the strained arms of the combating female against the car.   
  
The culprit responsible for successfully distracting it got in hits to the back of its head with a discarded slab of wood that had been near the dumpster, loosening the fabric coiled around its mouth, and as the fabric gave way, Mikasa was met with stretched, chittering teeth and the beady black eyes that shone heavily against sickly, veined skin. The strictly inhuman display was paralyzing, and as the creature turned to throw itself upon her, it shied from the attempt in agony, greeting them with another shrill howl, a key having been lodged into one of its eyes as the blonde behind it responded in kind by using her position in advantage to pull it off balance and downwards enough to lodge the set of car keys into the left socket.  
  
It was deafening – the ungodly sounds that came from its mouth. It shook its head from side to side, rather than doing the more seemingly sensible thing and trying to remove the lodged keys with its hands. Annie ducked herself back from the arms it swing around at her, cornering her into the car once more before she stepped to the side, and the darker-haired female grasped an advantage in the other diversion.  
  
With the precision focus of her former days on the softball team, Mikasa wound herself back, and then swung forward, cracking the decaying wood right across the side of the beast’s shaken head with enough raw force to send it toppling to the side onto the pavement. Hardly missing a beat, she was stepping forward to bring the wood down onto its head, over and over again, until the thing lay limp, twitching, and incoherent.  
  
Annie stood idle, eyes wide and mouth dropped open, and it stood to be several thrumming moments before the blonde swayed herself from thick deliberation over her likely fate, had the other female not been so bold to intervene when she had.  
  
For all the twists and turns, all the falls and rises of their odd companionship, she had not honestly expected Mikasa to stick her neck out like that for her. Not in such a stormed situation – not when her own head was reeling, and her stomach churned sickly  as she struggled to grasp some logic about the situation.   
  
Iced eyes found themselves at the stranger’s feet again, black and taloned. Tucks of feathers peeked out from beneath ragged black pants. When she roamed them along the rest of its body, she noticed its chest was still rising, just slightly beneath the thick coat.  
  
When Mikasa had not budged an inch since bludgeoning the foreign entity into the pavement, Annie made her presence clearly noted by advancing forward again to retrieve the keys from the thing’s eye socket. Easier said, and just as easier done – but the contents of her stomach heaved as sickly black remnants of an eye clung to the jagged edges of the key. Rather than daring to touch it, she tried scraping it off on an edge of the car. Her jeans had suffered enough from the sludge of the town.  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
It was a simple word, but Leonhardt gazed with longevity at the other, before brushing it off. She had stood, and approached the door of the husk of a car. It was worth a try to test the ignition.  
  
“I saw its mouth. It was going right for my fa–.”  
  
“ _Don’t_.”  
  
Mikasa pressed her lips into a tight line over being silenced, but relented. The heart palpitations suffered kept her hands trembling, and her skin prickled with fear, and yet she did not sate irritation over just how easily the other pushed off what had been done.  
  
She needed to sit down.  
  
As the blonde was already preoccupied in the driver’s seat, fiddling with the ignition, Mikasa slipped into the passenger seat beside her after discarding the slab of wood. She pressed her palms into her eyes, closed her door, and focused on deep breaths. The fact she may, or may not have condemned something to death struck her boldly. Regardless of whether or not it was human, or even less in resemblance to an animal.   
  
It was, without simplicity, otherworldly.   
  
It was such a revelation that kept both women in silence, declining to speak or discuss the events that transpired. Perhaps if they managed to escape the borders of the town, they could reflect, but danger reared its head. Still shaken, they became hyper aware of every sound around them, and had barely realized that the torrential downpour had recessed into a trickle.  
  
They key was crammed into the ignition, but Annie stared numbly, not bothering to try to turn it and gauge whether or not the vehicle still had some life within it.  
  
 _Got a light?_  
  
There was a lighter in a little gap with filthy change near the console and emergency brake of the car. Annie had not even noticed it, until Mikasa shakily reached over to grab it. Clicking the lid back, she struck it, and it fluttered to life, illuminating the depressing interior. Not willing to waste the contents inside the small silver asset, she clipped the lid back closed, and slipped it into a breast pocket of her jacket.  
  
Her eyes fell to Annie’s, who watched wordlessly, and as they shared a brief stare, Annie glanced downwards, finally churning the ignition, after pulling together her resolve.  
  
It sputtered without success.  
  
The blonde’s brows pressed, and she crinkled her nose slightly, before trying again, and again.  
  
At the fourth try, it roared to life.  
  
But relief did not meet their expressions.


	5. Torn Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Traveling on foot makes for better scenery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking forever with updating everything.  
> Seniors are staging a protest where we all skip Monday, so I've had time to work on things.

She stared numbly at the stripped particles banishing themselves into the air as the vehicle beneath them wheezed out a roar, beastly and hardly vapid in its outrageous declaration against being woken. Annie jerked her hands away from the steering wheel that she had once gripped in a fissure of turbulent hope as the rank skin of the steering seemed to flake off and evaporate into the air before her.  
  
Somewhere in the faint atmosphere of that town, an alarm was blaring out loud and lengthy, as if their atrocious thievery and murder had suddenly been universally acknowledged.  
  
The seats, like the steering, began to peel away and evaporate before their very eyes, and the material beneath what wore away revealed itself as being blackened and burned, threatening to crumble beneath their intrusive weight. Neither of them relieved themselves with a single breath as the sight before their eyes progressed, bit by bit, until the vehicle was stripped of any livelihood it could have possibly possessed beforehand.  
  
Mikasa, taut where she sat, retrieved a vivid sensation of someone – judging, seeking to apprehend, breathing down her nape, and her hair stood on end. As if to affront the possible perpetrator, she churned her neck back over the corner of her seat into the dual headlights beyond the nonexistent window – such had entirely melted away with much of the rest of the stripping material.  
  
“Annie.”  
  
“I _know_. I’m trying to pull it into drive it’s – it’s stuck on something.”  
  
“No, there’s –.”  
  
“I’m _working on it_.” Through grit teeth, a generally calm demeanor was betrayed. Still shaken by the encounter, her foot was crammed into the testy break below as she pulled at the gear shifter near the center console, which was fighting her from its parked position.  
  
Unexpectedly, she was suddenly jerked from her death-stare towards the refuting shifter as Mikasa reached over, knotting a fist into the neck of her jacket and pulling until she was respectively inches from her face. Nearly bewildered by this, it was no consolation when the ravenette clenched the other hand against the blonde’s jaw, twisting her gaze towards the back window.  
  
The same penetrating terror embedded itself into them. While they had a backseat and the rear of the car, as well as several yards of pavement separating them from the watchful being that returned to them, a lack of a window made all the difference still.  
  
They watched with interminable alarm, for past the blaring of a lengthy, bellowing alarm beyond, the sick and wet crunch of torn ligaments and crumpled bone was sound.  
  
The observational beast quaked where it stood, trembling and contorting as its head was split by a force unseen, from nose tip to the baseline of its neck. As black-inked blood decorated the pavement, it sizzled, evaporating upon the frigid ground.  
  
Annie idled her fingers away from the gear shifter, bracing her hand against the back of her seat as she leaned in slightly to gather the spectacle. Mikasa had long since dropped her intrusive hands from the other, entirely turned around in her seat with a jaw bordering making contact with the questionably fragile flooring of the vehicle. Her stomach churned, and she possessed a sudden gratefulness for having denied café food before their trip.  
  
Halfly expecting the being to drop dead where it stood, any foundational reservations of “this cannot be real” that they previously held were ground zero as the two limp halves of its head and neck were molded, carved into the sprouting, grappling arms of a human being. The extremities looked entirely out of place, churning out from the body of the cervidae.  
  
The inked splatters of blood, upon seeping into the pavement, expanded, turning the ground crisp and blackened, much like the vehicle they occupied.  
  
As outlines of figures, similar to the contorted stag and the perpetrator they had beaten to the ground beforehand waded their way through the shadows of the town in the distance, Annie forced her eyes away from the sight, jerking at the shifter again with a renewed vigor. To her surprise, it gave away into _drive_ very easily. If it were a living thing in itself, she would have suspected the car of sabotage, forcing them to remain stationary until they had witnessed a scene with utmost backlash to their ignorance of the town.  
  
They had stepped with naivety into hell.  
  
When Mikasa turned with urgency, the dire press to _move_ hung on lips that would not be set to motion, and yet the depth-less eyes spoke volumes to the female beside her, who was already intent on getting the car to start forward. She hoped it would all hold together.  
  
The engine met them with resilience still, fighting between its desire to keep them rooted to the horrors of the town, and the desire to fulfill its natural purpose of motion. The rebellion was cut short, when the vehicle lurched forward from the much greater impact to its rear.  
  
The mutilated stag had darted itself forward, slamming into the back of the car, arms flailing in an uncoordinated attempt and grabbing onto the seats in front of it through the fortunately small-spaced window that denied the entirety of its unnatural body entrance. The momentum given shocked the car into submission as they jerked forward, and Annie crammed her foot against the gas with such intensity, it was a wonder her foot had not gone through the bared flooring.  
  
Once they were moving, Annie did not relent on the gas. The car moved much slower than one generally would. When she careened into the street, the top speed that showed on the dash was an astonishing thirty five. Not something impressive, as the stag pursued them as if its life depended on it and easily caught up, ramming stupidly into the back of the car again.  
  
Pulling various maneuvers through the streets, continually pressing as hard as she could manage against the accelerator, the sheer condition of the town as a whole became apparent through the windowless front. Not only had the car rusted and withered beneath their touch, but the buildings, the stores, the street lamps all seemed eaten away at, burnt, unfavourable.  
  
The force of the fiend that hit the front of the vehicle, side blinding it, was enough to knock it entirely from its path.  
  
Annie had no visual warning, and only a short sound of surprise from the companion beside her. The front of the car hit the side of a building, a few blocks down from the parking lot they had escaped from. Knocked delirious by the force of the collision, they were dimly aware of the fact that the alarm had since faded.  
  
Touching tentatively to the dribble of liquid creeping down her forehead, Mikasa stared brutishly at the door frame of the vehicle that held the blame for splitting her forehead in the impact. Beside her, Annie let out a strangled noise, and when she shot the blonde a look, she was greeted with the sight of the woman half-hanging out of the window. Large, burn-blackened arms were hooked around her midriff, digging fingers in, and scrambling for any firm purchase on her as she tried her affordable best to worm from the grasp in her delirium.  
  
Mikasa was across the console and seat in an instant, wrapping an arm around the leg that wasn’t kicking around, and using her other to secure a grip on the blonde’s belt in an extraneous effort to pull Annie, who focused on tearing her nails across the blackened skin and trying to beat on the side of the offender’s body, back inside the vehicle.  
  
The scrabbling of hooves accompanied by fearful yelling drew attention, not entirely without benefit.  
  
Annie could feel the creature let go, and push off to the side somewhere, as another of its kin had decided to betray its intent by tackling it to the ground with all obvious intent to injure. Hanging out of the car, she caught an excellent sight of her attacker’s front hooves, slick and pointed, like the leg of an arachnid. Oddly, they glimmered at one edge, as if comprised of a blade. The horrid sight was short lived, as the woman inside the car was still desperately attempting to haul her back inside. Finally free from the hold, Annie had gripped the edge of the window, wiggling herself back inside, none too soon.  
  
She had narrowly missed being crushed by the scuffling, dueling beastly bodies that shoved themselves against the door of the car hard enough to dent it. Perhaps not such a marvelous feat with how worn and fragile the entire vehicle seemed. It was a wonder it had not disintegrated on impact.  
  
Realizing the unnatural creatures were in confliction with one another, there was a small window of escape that Mikasa was intent on taking to their advantage. After managing to finally let go of the blonde’s pants, she clicked the manual lock, popping open the door, and scampered out, eyes wild for anything else that might be coming their way.  
  
Annie followed immediately, breath heavy, and hands shaken as she grappled at the edge of the door, low and wary, backpack shouldered in with precautionary security. When Mikasa darted off one way, little questioning occurred to her as she followed close, out of sight from the combating beasts. Whether they could see or not any longer was something to debate.  
  
“I can’t get this open.”  
  
There was a sort of urgency in the tone that caused Annie to rip her stare from the dark, struggling forms to gaze upon the enormity of a structure, foreboding in every essence of brick and stone.  
  
Mikasa was shoving her side into repentant doors, selfishly declining access for their own preservation.  
  
When the blonde flew up the steps, flurried by the sight of approaching figures not too far off from the forsaken vehicle, she sent her weight crashing into strained hinges, causing the doors to fly open near-instantaneously.  
  
Once inside, they had swung themselves around, shoving back against the doors in an attempt to secure them as they were previously. Realizing the entrance had been boarded up beforehand, Annie sent herself on a hunt for some sort of furniture to barricade the broken, unstable doors, while Mikasa barred herself across them, shoulder pressed to where the duo joined.  
  
With some amount of luck, nothing had pursued them past the doors in the time that Annie shoved over crumples of misshapen sofas and office chairs. Taking a look about them made it clear that they had entered some box-office building, diminutive in stature within the shrunken town, but emboldened with an importance that stood beyond the confines of the town’s previous liveliness.  
  
“You’re bleeding,” Mikasa closely noted, breath still heavy, brows still pressed. She looked overly concentrated in the improper space of the situation, and it almost forced a slighter smirk from the blonde whose attention she bartered assistance for.  
  
When Annie looked herself over unsuccessfully, Mikasa gestured to her side, where crimson prickles were seeping through the white of her tanktop, far beneath the fabrics of heavy jackets that were nipped and torn at the spot.  
  
The blonde swore, attending to the fabric of the jacket before peering at the prize earned from the struggle of keeping herself from having been ripped in half from the window of a car.  
  
The deer-like beings offered formidable strength in a jerking fashion, like a large dog having latched onto something, keen without sense of its own strength to yank it from the hands of an oppositional master.  
  
Annie was sore from the strain. She swore beneath her iced breath, dismissing attentions with a pitiful wave of a hand. “Just nicked me there. It’s fine.”  
  
Mikasa made a hummed noise. Whether through acceptance or disbelief was unclarifiable.  
  
The room was a cluttered aftermath. Whatever had been there had done its rampage and chosen to move on with no amount of discrepancy in the face of trying to be discreet.  
  
Mikasa’s boots left prints in their wake through congealed blood, stark even against dirtied flooring. While it was sensible to fan out in the area to search through clutters and piles, to peer through the gaping doorways for another plausible exit, neither female was content in the idea of leaving the other’s side. Like many things, it went unspoken. The ravenette’s fingers found themselves, nimble against the shredded fabric. The area was warm and blithering to the air about them.  
  
“You need to cover that, at least.”  
  
“I will when I find something.”  
  
Annie’s tone was snapping, but not enough for the other woman to shy away from it. Apart, the room droned in silence, cut off from the spectrum of colourful reality beyond the doors they had escaped into.  
  
Liquid dripped from the ceiling above, giving the ground around them a sheen, even without a clear light source. The darkness was forgiving enough that they would not stumble about aimlessly. Glancing about the floor, focusing on the various punctured holes within the floorboards, Mikasa was grateful. Each edgy void uttered vague promises of an endless fall, where she to make the mistake of stepping into one of them.  
  
Annie pressed on, as if she knew the area well enough, weaving through the masses of holes and clutter. The other focused her feet, mimicking the trail as she scoured for useful objects. It occurred to the both of them that wandering around defenseless was going to do them no good at all. The notebooks and tidings in their packs were not their salvation.  
  
The shredded planks of wood that were pried from the walls gave reason to the both of them that finding a means of defense with the planks would not last them long.  
  
Yet when Annie “tested” a stapler by clicking it and shooting little staples at a nearby wall, through some hilarity or boredom, Mikasa further reasoned that the planks were certainly better than their bare hands or office supplies, for the most part.  
  
So she grimly shuffled around the piles of wood stripped from grimy walls, seeking out those that looked the least splinter-hazard driven, and passing one to the blonde, who squinted and pulled lines at the edges of her lips with silent interrogation to the boards over whether or not it was worth the effort to put them to offensive use.  
  
When it seemed like Annie would drop it in favour of something else, she gave it a few curt swings, and then felt around for the ancient, stringy duct tape that sat at the edge of a desk that caved in at the middle from a violent pressure once borne upon it.  
  
“We can get a few nails, or a pair of scissors, and secure them at the end,” the blonde offered, holding up the duct tape, dangling it around nimble fingers as she studied the reliable thickness of the wood. Slightly soggy, but it would dry.  
  
Mikasa found herself quickly agreeing, and going as far as to move about the various desks, peering into the drawers she could actually access. The quicker they escaped from the area, the quicker she would find herself leaning towards a figure of comfort once more. Whatever was out there – surely, they knew where the two women had escaped to. It was only a matter of time, and fragile, shattered windows would only do so much for them, poorly-constructed barricade at the door all aside.  
  
When they met once more, Annie recovered nails from hanging images, and a scandalous switchblade in one of the drawers, beside a family photo and other personal items, as well as one half of a pair of scissors. Why only one half was beyond her.  
  
Mikasa presented one full pair of scissors, and another half, though the handle was a different colour from Annie’s, and a different size. Someone had the apparent habit of desecrating scissors for whatever reason.  
  
Passing the roll of duct tape between one another, they followed suit with the once-destructive office occupant, prying the pairs into singles, and strapping the blades onto the respective end of their makeshift weapons.  
  
A scuttle-like noise from the other side of the makeshift barricade caused them to finish their renovations in a staggeringly smooth amount of time, with little mishap to the condition of those weapons. The rest of the sets of the scissors were crammed into Mikasa’s backpack, while Annie favoured hanging on to the switchblade.  
  
When the furniture hazardously stacked to the door began to tremble with increasingly violent shoving contact from the other side, both conceded that their time within the temporary safety was abolished. A particularly hard shove against the doors sent Mikasa scrambling for a purchased grip on the door handle at the farthest wall of the office room, and both filed into it, closing it behind them.  
  
A rank, flat, blackened corridor greeted them with the morbid politeness of wet, recent blood smudged down the middle of broken and dirtied tile. The lights flickered, rampant and without pattern.


	6. Gasping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A grave mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason this chapter is so short is because I haven't added anything to this in a LONG time, and I want to see if people are still interested before I go to do any more. Plus this was more of a vent chapter in a way. Thank you for those of you who have liked this in the past, and those of you who may tune in.

The hallway is treacherously long. Picture frames decorate the interior. 

As Mikasa peers at the broken frames, however, no pictures exist within them. An unsettled, misplaced expression of her own is reflected back at her. 

The worried crease of her brows, and the haggard unkemptness of her hair, and her unhinged jaw from which broken teeth shifted and splayed themselves into rows of jagged fangs – when she moves away in sudden shock, she bumps right into the solid, warm body of her companion, and is then quick to right herself with a very soft-spoken apology; it is paid no mind apart from a rather questioning look from the blonde who, too, looks worn and unsettled.

The ravenette moves her hand along her own jaw, feeling for torn flesh and crumpled bone but she only runs the tips of her fingers along clammy skin and a very present ache deep in the muscles strewn about the bone.

Mikasa, capturing the present reality once more, roams her eyes along the peeling paint and unwelcoming exterior of the hall, and finds that no doorways promised an alternate escape from the darkness that encompasses them as they progress into the unknown.

Her eyes find themselves resting once more on the shredded fabric of her companion’s jacket, which is blotted with crimson from the center as it bloomed outwards.

As if sensing her gaze, Annie hunches a shoulder, and grabs at the fabric along her arm, attempting to adjust it and momentarily disturb Mikasa’s concentrated view.

As if it had not been a matter of her focus at all, Ackerman instead peered ahead into the nothingness. Though her feet feel as if they are lead and her mouth dries, she urges herself forth, because backwards is simply not an option for either of them, and Annie is already just a few steps ahead of her.

The floors creak and bend beneath each step, sounding hollow beneath her heavy boots. She fears that if she were to step on the wrong board, it would give way, sending her down into a lonely endless abyss of infinite time.

Her own jacket suddenly feels far too hot.

Annie has stopped ahead of her, so she takes a few steps closer, looking over her head (an easy feat) down the hallway further, which is starting to look much more like a house. It takes her a moment to find exactly what has placed the blonde into a trance, but when she steps beside her companion to follow her gaze, a rigid chill consumes her.

**Don’t look back**

Is scratched deeply into the dirty floorboards. Her heart pounds wildly against its marrow cage. For half a second, the impulse to do just the opposite of what the wooden floor commands her to do is almost unbearable. She tunes her ears to the stark quiet behind them, and swears that she hears breathing.

”Don’t,” Annie says, as if reading her mind. She straightens her back, not unlike a soldier, and presses forward.

Mikasa admires her will for a moment before following behind her. The hallway is so narrow that she cannot travel beside the other, but she is content watching her back.

They walk for an hour. Perhaps ten minutes. Twenty?

Mikasa is nearly drenched in sweat. The overwhelming urge to look behind her has not left, and with each step the urge increases. She’s trembling, sinking her nails into the skin of her palms in an effort to distract herself. Several times, she feels the need to call out to the female in front of her. For what? To cause her to look back? Annie would not be that stupid.

Mikasa needs to look back. It would be okay if she looked back, she tells herself. A peek over her shoulder. The breathing seems to have gotten several feet closer and her throat is so dry she can hardly swallow.

Annie is ignorant to her torment.

A second is all it would take. All that would greet her would be darkness. She has to look back. Has to reprieve herself of the raw fear circling her might tightly like a swiftly descending vulture. She wants to scream. When she clenches her jaw hard enough to ache, and then props her mouth open, all that leaves her is a mortified, choked gasp. The breathing behind her stops.

She looks back.

How could she have possibly convinced herself it would be a good idea?


End file.
